“His icy logic could send a shiver up a ghost,” Bates remarked.

MR. R. MULCAHY (CHIEF OF STAFF):

Let them talk for themselves.

 

MR. KEVIN O'HIGGINS (ASSISTANT MINISTER FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT):

Some of them have talked for themselves, and in support of the Treaty. I realise if these men had lost their lives in the war there would be people getting up and saying, "If they were here they would not support the Treaty." Now I come to King Charles' head—the Oath of Allegiance. Some call it an oath of allegiance. I do not know what it is. I can only speak of it in a negative way. It is not an oath of allegiance. There is a difference between faith and allegiance. Your first allegiance is to the Constitution of the Irish Free State and you swear faith to the King of England. Now faith is a thing that can exist between equals; there is, if I might coin a word, mutuality, reciprocity. It is contingent and conditional, and I hold if you had sworn allegiance to the Constitution of the Irish Free State anything that follows on that is not absolute but conditional on your Constitution being respected, and conditional on the terms of the Treaty being adhered to. In the second clause of the Treaty you have two words of which Deputy Childers took very little stock—he waved it aside: "The position of the Irish Free State in relation to the Imperial Parliament and Government and otherwise shall be that of the Dominion of Canada and the law, practice and constitutional usage governing the relationship of the Crown or the representatives of the Crown, and of the Imperial Parliament to the Dominion of Canada shall govern their relationship to the Irish Free State." Now, those two words "practice" and "usage" mean much more than Mr. Childers was prepared to attribute to them. They neutralise and nullify "law." They were put in with that purpose. The English representatives offered to embody in the Treaty anything to ensure that the power of the Crown in Ireland would be exercised no more than in Canada—in other words, that there would be no power of the Crown in Ireland. Mr. Childers says who is to be the judge, who is to decide, where is your court? Everyone knows we will be represented in the League of Nations. That's the Court. For another thing, I take it we ourselves will decide. If we consider our rights are infringed, then we stand solely on our allegiance to the Constitution of the Free State, and nothing else (hear, hear). I have said we have responsibilities. We have responsibilities to all the nation and not merely to a particular political party within the nation. If I felt that by resuming war we had even an outside chance of securing the fullness of our rights, that consideration would scarcely deter me, but I am not prepared to sacrifice them for the sake of handing on a tradition to posterity. I take it that we are the posterity of the generation that preceded us, but they do not seem to have worried much about handing on a separatist tradition intact to us—we had to go back to '67 to dig it up. We may rest assured that if this political experiment fails, and if the shoe pinches, posterity will take its own measures of alleviation and will do so in circumstances infinitely more favourable than those which prevailed when this generation grappled with the task. It is possible to be over solicitous about posterity. If we were to tell the man in the street that we proposed to sacrifice him in order to hand on a tradition to posterity he would probably complain that he was being forced to carry an undue burden because he had the misfortune to be alive to-day instead of to-morrow, and ask plaintively what had posterity ever done for him. I do not wish to be flippant about what has been a sacred ideal to us, a thing for which we have fought and worked and prayed for years, to which we have given liberally the best service of body and mind and soul, an ideal sanctified by the best blood of our countrymen and ennobled by the sacrifices of a gallant people; but I do ask for a frank admission that in face of tremendous odds we have gone as near the attainment of that ideal as is possible in the existing circumstances. I do ask for a frank and fearless recognition of political realities. I do ask for an endorsement of the view of our plenipotentiaries that embodied in this Treaty you have a measure of liberty that may honourably be accepted in the name of our people, not indeed a complete recognition of what we have held, and still hold, to be their right, but at least a political experiment to the working of which we are prepared to bring goodwill and good faith. I think it unwise and unstatesmanlike that England's representatives have thought fit to insist under threat of war on certain clauses of that Treaty. I do the English people the justice of believing that they would gladly have endorsed a more generous measure. I hardly hope that within the terms of this Treaty there lies the fulfilment of Ireland's destiny, but I do hope and believe that with the disappearance of old passions and distrusts, fostered by centuries of persecution and desperate resistance, what remains may be won by agreement and by peaceful political evolution. In that spirit I stand for the ratification of this Treaty —in that spirit I ask you to endorse it. I ask you to say that these five men whom you sent to London, and pitted against the keenest diplomats of Europe, have acquitted themselves as well and as worthily as our army did against the shock troops of the British Empire—both they and our army have fallen somewhat short of the ideal for which they strove against fearful odds. But I ask you to say that in this Treaty they have attained something that can be honourably accepted. The welfare and happiness of the men and women and the little children of this nation must, after all, take precedence of political creeds and theories. I submit that we have attained a measure which secures that happiness and welfare, and on that basis and because of the alternative and all it means for these our people, I ask your acceptance of and your allegiance to the Constitution of Saorstát na hEireann (applause).

 

MR. SEAN MACSWINEY (WEST, SOUTH, AND MID-CORK):

I cannot say that any of the arguments advanced by any of the delegates or their supporters would change me. I think, on the whole, that their arguments are the arguments of despair. Mr. Arthur Griffith said that, in his opinion, this was a final settlement and a satisfactory settlement, the Minister for Finance says it is not a final settlement, and Deputy Kevin O'Higgins says he hopes for better terms. Mr. Arthur Griffith said the Treaty would be accepted by 95 per cent. of the people. I do not know exactly what percentage of the population of Ireland I represent, but I have my instructions in my pocket to vote against the Treaty. I do not refer to the military men in my constituency; I refer to the civil population. I hold against the Chairman of the Delegation that any one man won the war. The war is not won yet. This is only a period of truce. That is what we had always impressed on us in the South so as not to let ourselves get soft, and I hope we have not done so. He also said if we are going to go into the Empire, let us go in with our heads up. We cannot, and we never intended to go into it at all. I think the contention that has been made by speaker after speaker in favour of the Treaty that we are endeavouring to put the delegates in the dock, is wrong. I hold when the delegates came back we were entitled to know what led up to the signing, and not have it hurled at our heads like a bomb—and, I hope, like a dud. The Chairman of the Delegation says the Treaty was signed on an equal footing, equal speaking to equal. The Minister for Finance says there was no threat used to make them sign it. Deputy Kevin O'Higgins says they were threatened with immediate and terrible war and that the man who would refuse to sign the Treaty would go down to posterity as being the man who brought immediate and terrible war on the country. Other members of the delegation have not spoken yet. If they were threatened in private they will let us know. Deputy O'Higgins seems to have some inside information on the matter. I note all the Deputies speaking are vastly concerned with the civil population. I wonder if they have all their mandates from the civil population to accept? I doubt it. All I know is that the men who sent me up here instructed me to vote against it. They expressed the opinion that such advice or instruction was not necessary, but in case I might go wrong, they issued the instructions. The peculiar thing about this Treaty, and the move that's being made to ratify it, is, I don't quite know how to term it. But I will say one peculiar point about it is that seconding of the motion of acceptance by Commandant Mac Keon. Commandant MacKeon is a brave soldier, whose bravery was acknowledged by the enemy as well as by his own (hear, hear). None braver. And I hold when he was asked to second the motion, it was taking an unfair advantage of the rest of us (cries of "No"). The Press of the country, as we know, is against us; it always has been. The Minister for Finance accepted responsibility for some of us being excommunicated. The last ban has not been lifted yet, but it does not worry us. Are the members serious about unanimity? We know people would stand solidly behind us again. I can always speak for my own in the South. Probably the men saying "No, no" could never speak for their constituents. I am sorry Commandant MacKeon seconded. I can answer for the Army of Munster. I am not a Divisional Commandant, but I can answer for the Army of Munster, and I have been empowered to answer for them (cries of "You cannot").

MR. P. BRENNAN (CLARE):

You cannot.

 

MR. SEAN MACSWINEY (WEST, SOUTH, AND MID-CORK):

If I cannot, I will probably be directed in the morning by officers in a position to direct me. I am sorry to see Commandant MacKeon putting himself in the position in which I have got the assurance that we of the South do not stand with him. I do know if we go back to hostilities that he will be there as he was before. I am just using that point because I believe unfair tactics were brought to force the ratification through. It was unfair to him and everyone else in the Army to put him in that position. I do not know that I have got much more to say in the matter. I have sworn an oath to the Republic, and for that reason I could not vote for the Treaty. In my opinion any man who has sworn an oath cannot accept the Treaty. The people who want the Treaty can vote for the ratification, but that will never defeat the Republican idea (applause).

 

MR. R.C. BARTON (KILDARE AND WICKLOW):

I am going to make plain to you the circumstances under which I find myself in honour bound to recommend the acceptance of the Treaty. In making that statement I have one object only in view, and that is to enable you to become intimately acquainted with the circumstances leading up to the signing of the Treaty and the responsibility forced on me had I refused to sign. I do not seek to shield myself from the charge of having broken my oath of allegiance to the Republic—my signature is proof of that fact (hear, hear). That oath was, and still is to me, the most sacred bond on earth. I broke my oath because I judged that violation to be the lesser of alternative outrages forced upon me, and between which I was compelled to choose. On Sunday, December 4th, the Conference had precipitately and definitely broken down. An intermediary effected contact next day, and on Monday at 3 p.m., Arthur Griffith, Michael Collins, and myself met the English representatives. In the struggle that ensued Arthur Griffith sought, repeatedly to have the decision between war and peace on the terms of the Treaty referred back to this assembly. This proposal Mr. Lloyd George directly negative. He claimed that we were plenipotentiaries and that we must either accept or reject. Speaking for himself and his colleagues, the English Prime Minister with all the solemnity and the power of conviction that he alone, of all men I met, can impart by word and gesture—the vehicles by which the mind of one man oppresses and impresses the mind of another— declared that the signature and recommendation of every member of our delegation was necessary or war would follow immediately. He gave us until 10 o'clock to make up our minds, and it was then about 8.30. We returned to our house to decide upon our answer. The issue before us was whether we should stand behind our proposals for external association, face war and maintain the Republic, or whether we should accept inclusion in the British Empire and take peace.

Arthur Griffith, Michael Collins, and Eamonn Duggan were for acceptance and peace; Gavan Duffy and myself were for refusal—war or no war. An answer that was not unanimous committed you to immediate war, and the responsibility for that was to rest directly upon those two delegates who refused to sign. For myself, I preferred war. I told my colleagues so, but for the nation, without consultation, I dared not accept that responsibility. The alternative which I sought to avoid seemed to me a lesser outrage than the violation of what is my faith. So that I myself, and of my own choice, must commit my nation to immediate war, without you, Mr. President, or the Members of the Dáil, or the nation having an opportunity to examine the terms upon which war could be avoided. I signed, and now I have fulfilled my undertaking I recommend to you the Treaty I signed in London (applause).

MR. MICHAEL COLLINS (MINISTER FOR FINANCE):

I move the adjournment until to-morrow morning at 11 o'clock if the President is agreeable.

 

MISS MACSWINEY (CORK CITY):

Before the adjournment is put to the House, may I ask the Minister for Publicity whether the Press understand they are here by the courtesy of both sides to act impartially, and whether it is clearly understood that this is a very serious matter which has to go forth impartially to the nation, and whether it is part of the compact of the Press that they should report the speeches on one side in full and take all the arguments out of the President's speech, leaving nothing but plain conclusions, and whether he will interview the Press on this matter and see that they will report impartially, or whether, in the event of such a promise not being given by the Press, we shall ask this House to request the Press to withdraw. This is a very serious matter for our people. We would like to hold this meeting where the whole people of Ireland could hear it, but since that is not possible, we are at the mercy of the Press. I do think the Press ought to act honourably in this. I think it is well to bring this matter before the Minister for Publicity, in order that the Press give a guarantee, or we shall ask them to withdraw.

 

MR. DESMOND FITZGERALD (MINISTER FOR PUBLICITY):

I do not think the last speaker understands the circumstances of bringing out early editions. The last speech to appear was the President's, of which a résumé was given. I have seen the chief reporters of the chief Dublin Press and they, to my knowledge, issued instructions to the reporters to report both sides fully. I am quite satisfied that when you come to see the later editions of the evening press you will see the President's speech absolutely verbatim. We have an arrangement which guarantees that as far as the Press which reaches most of the Irish people is concerned, the reports will be quite fair.

COUNTESS MARKIEVICZ (SOUTH DUBLIN):

With regard to the Press, could we not arrange to hold a Session to-morrow in the Mansion House where our friends would get a chance of hearing the arguments on both sides?

 

MR. SEAN MCENTEE (MONAGHAN):

With regard to the Director of Publicity's statement, I would like to refer him to the Evening Herald 5.30 Edition. The account there is absolutely disconnected, and it conveys an altogether wrong impression of the effect of the speech on the House. Further on I look at the speech of the Minister for Home Affairs, who seconded the rejection. Again the speech is very badly reported. Look, then, at the speech of Count Plunkett: it is altogether omitted. I quite understand that the gentlemen of the Press labour under great difficulties in the House, but in a paper issued at 5.30 there is no reason why the report of a speech delivered before 1 o'clock has not appeared.

THE SPEAKER:

We cannot have a general discussion on these things.

 

MR. J.J. WALSH (CORK CITY):

It may be taken by the Press and public that we are in favour of a partial presentation of reports. I would certainly appeal to the Press, and I would inform them that as far as I am concerned—and, I suppose, everybody else who intends voting for the Treaty —that we desire every point essential to the information of the Irish people should be included in the reports.

PROFESSOR STOCKLEY (NATIONAL UNIVERSITY):

I beg to second the motion for adjournment.

MR. SEAN MCGARRY (MID-DUBLIN):

There has been a suggestion made by one of the Deputies from Cork that there was a compact between one side and the Press (cries of "No—sit down"). I will not sit down. There was a suggestion of a compact (cries of "No, no").

 

MR. MICHAEL COLLINS (MINISTER FOR FINANCE):

I think the Deputy from Clontarf misunderstands what the Deputy from Cork said. The Deputy from Cork was quite clear, but was going on an earlier edition. The late edition of the Telegraph has the speeches up to a certain point. They are given in full. Mine is not and I have no grievance (laughter).

 

MR. CATHAL BRUGHA (MINISTER FOR DEFENCE):

The Government is still in office, and as one member of it I will certainly use my influence to prevent the Press from being present to-morrow if the speeches are not fairly in to-morrow's papers (hear, hear). With regard to the suggestion of the Dáil meeting in the Mansion House, the original decision of the Cabinet was that a public meeting would be held at the Mansion House, but owing to the Aonach being held there—a fact which we overlooked—we had to change that decision and come here. The Aonach is over now and I understand the exhibits are removed. Consequently, with the kind permission of the Lord Mayor, there is no reason why we should not have a meeting at the Mansion House to-morrow (hear, hear).

ALDERMAN W.T. COSGRAVE (MINISTER FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT):

If a decision on the matter were already given at the Secret Session, are we to be like a Board of Guardians, passing a resolution one day, and recinding it the  next day? (laughter).

THE SPEAKER:

There is a motion for adjournment for lunch.

MR. CATHAL BRUGHA (MINISTER FOR DEFENCE):

I agree. Sandwiches and then the Mansion House to-morrow at 11 o'clock.

MR. GRIFFITH (MINISTER FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS):

Is that a motion?

COUNTESS MARKIEVICZ (SOUTH DUBLIN):

I second it.

 

MR. GRIFFITH (MINISTER FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS):

Before that is put, I may mention that President de Valera said to me that at a Public Session you will have partisans on both sides. The task of keeping order will be impossible and the selection of people to be allowed to the meeting will be impossible. Only a thousand can get in, and as the secretaries know, you will have all kinds of blame that this person was there, and that person was not. Every person who is not allowed in will say it is on account of the political issue.

You will be speaking to a public meeting, not to a Session of Dáil Eireann.

PRESIDENT DE VALERA:

I agree absolutely with Mr. Griffith in the matter (applause).

 

MR. CATHAL BRUGHA (MINISTER FOR DEFENCE):

In deference to the President, I would be willing to have a meeting here, but seeing what has been already said with regard to the obvious partiality of the Press, it is quite clear that we should go to a place that will hold the biggest number of the Irish people, so that they will hear the whole case. They won't hear our case if the statement in regard to the speeches published to-day is correct. The Irish people should know the whole case. Unfortunately up to now there are two sides; please God in the finish there will be only one. I presume the other side do not fear publicity ("No, no"). Then why not have the meeting there? Of course if the President insists—

 

PRESIDENT DE VALERA:

I do not want to insist, but the reasons given are cogent. It would be unwise on short notice like that to have a meeting in the Round Room. Such a course as is suggested would be a corrective to the partiality of the Press. It is simply as a corrective. If we cannot get fair play from the Press we must have to think of it. I would certainly not be glad to be forced to that sort of thing at this stage.

 

THE SPEAKER:

I declare lunch now and after for the adjournment of the House until......

 

Sutcliffe emerged from the toilets. An impromptu meeting was held in the corner at the front window. “Some fuckers giving me very funny looks when I was studying this stuff in there. Where are the others?”

 

“Dev’s crowd are across the way with their spam sandwiches and the Collins’ crowd are down at the far end,” said Marsh.

 

“They have smoked salmon sandwiches,” announced O’Connor who was surreptitiously taking notes while he was pretending that he was doing architectural drawings of rights of way for wheelchair users.

 

“I smell a rat,” said Sutcliffe.

 

“Maybe its the sandwiches,” suggested Long.

 

“Liam is right. Its a ready-up,” concluded Redican. “Might be the biggest since Strongbow and the Wexford farmer general’s cock.”

 

Sutcliffe was edgy. “I need a bit more study of Galvin’s notes...Ernie, could you get a little time by doing an analysis of this so-called Treaty?”

 

Bates guffawed. “Just like that?”

 

“Ernie we all know that you are the best spoofer in republicanism. Indulge yourself,” O’Neill demanded as he delivered a loud fart in the direction of the Collins company.

 

“What makes you think they’ll listen to me?”

 

“Once you start Ernie they’ll listen.”

 

O’Donnell approached both parties in turn and asked if they would allow some comments on the Treaty debate to be made. He returned to his own group. “Both welcome views from the public.”

 

Redican called order and introduced Bates who was swearing under his breath. “This is Mr Ernest Bates, well-known Republican revolutionary and academic.”

 

Marsh dragged a chair close to the counter. “Here Ernie you step up on this onto the counter so that everyone will see you,” he encouraged pushing Bates onto the counter. “Don’t fall off,” he muttered “or you’ll fuck up everything not for the first time in yer miserable life.”

 

Bates straightened himself up gingerly and gave Marsh a gimlet stare. He coughed a few times and took off his spectacles. He gave them a brief polish using the lining of his right trouser pocket. Putting them on he looked all around like a man standing on a gallows who was seeing an unforgiving world for a last time.

 

“This so-called treaty is a spurious concept,” he began in a hesitant voice, “to know anything about it we have to know everything. To show it as a finished product but it cannot be shown as that because its unfinished and it could be either all or nothing. We do know that it is connected to other things even if we do not know anything about it. The entirety of it so’s to speak even if we do know some of the things. Yis know the known unknowns and all that shite. Individual elements but not the entire vocabulary so that we could go on and on ad infinitum exploring every word without discovering the jist. Its intelligence.”

 

De Valera turned to Childers. “Holy mother of the divine resistance, we should have had that fellow in London.”

 

“He’d be some time bomb to shove up Lloyd George’s hole,” agreed Childers.

 

“You know, who wins and who loses,” continued Bates, his voice now taking on a strong Munster ring, “What is tenable and what is untenable, the ying and yang like what is understandable and what is illusion. Where are the unsuspected interconnections that could culminate in a spectacular advance before dismissing it without discovering what it might be aiming at such as fostering tolerance, consideration and compromise? The question is compromise with what? Intolerance, ruthlessness and tyranny.”

 

“By Jaysus, that man beats the fucking barney,” a man muttered to his wife.

 

“But having made these critical comments we must search for what may be valuable in it. What is its dialectic pattern? Like does it come in three stages, that is thesis, antithesis and synthesis. Something that may be alright for symmetry but not over convincing as a method of historical study of the spirit of this so-called Treaty. And of course, as we know from Aubane Books and in particular from the cogent writings of the anti-revisionist historian and academic Jack Lane we are starting out with the wrong name. So if we leave in the spirit of the thing and the thing of the spirit to the three stages of logic we find the first is as such....”

 

The puzzled crowd stared and looked at each other as Bates burst into manic laughter. He recovered and explained: “This phrase, ‘as such’ reminds me of a certain individual. He came down from up there in the early days when he was needed up there. Anyhow, he’d be waltzing around down here and if he used the words ‘as such’ once in an hour’s conversation, he used it a hundred times. But what I laughed at was his nerve. He was being put up in people’s houses, people largely with very little, because as youse know the rich put nothing up in their posh gaffs except bundles of stocks and share certificates....”

 

Shouts of: “Bloody right there!”

 

“So maybe at some demo he heard someone shout about exploitation or something because he’d have a nice sleep in a comfortable bed with fresh, clean sheets and he’d be wolfing down porridge and rashers and sausages shared by the family while the husband, working on a building site, watched as some of what should be his calories disappeared down the throat of this eating machine and he’d be saying to the family ‘I’d let no fucker exploit me, oh John, d’yeh want that sausage?’”

 

Voices muttering, “Plenty of them around.”

 

“So to get back,” said Bates, after having a gulp of Guinness, “well the first stage is that of logic which I can’t honestly ascribe to the spirit of this treaty. In the second stage, the spirit passes through a phase of self-estrangement, in which it is in a stage of being- other but anyway even with the correct name this kind of theorising is preposterous.”

 

“Where’s this fucker from?” Collins asked O’Higgins.

 

“A Tipperary donkey shagger.”

 

“Now folks take note that as far as the dialectic is concerned it allows us to get a considerable insight into the workings of the human mind, considering its advantages or indeed its disadvantages. For remember that as a contribution to the psychology of intellectual growth, the dialectic is not an inhibitor to a certain poetic conception of language itself but a piece of shrewd observation which often plays on the different meaning of words. We need precision.” Bates struck his open palm with a clenched fist. “I cannot emphasise more that even for an oblique conception of the meaning of words we must have precise formulations. Words that create inherent intelligence. Words that are superior to the words of the British.”

 

Some cheering from the body of the pub.

“The dialectic tells us that from contrary demands some form of agreement may often be arrived at. For instance, if we go back to say the interplay of questions and answers we may get different answers to different questions such as if we take the statement by Heraclitus that everything moves and Parmenides answers by his statement that nothing moves at which we could object to the statement of Heraclitus that everything moves so we end up with statements that are contradictory or of course we may reach the compromise that some things move and some don’t.”

 

“Is this epistemological or ontological?” asked Collins.

 

“I don’t know the fuck. I’m a blacksmith, not a contortionist,” replied McKeon.

 

“With two separate positions we could through negotiation reach some kind of intermediate solution which some measure of satisfaction is attained by both parties but nobody is completely happy. Not good enough you could say. The whole concept could be dismissed as something obscure and hazy. But if you bring in scientific theory you can connect unsuspecting connections which encompasses a system of theory that allows no exceptions when everyone thought that the answer to everything was just around the corner, the block or the next bend depending on whether you were talking about the city or the countryside.”

 

“Fucken jeeesus!” said Marsh under his breath.

 

“The only problem with scientific theory,” explained Bates, “is it negates reliance on your own instincts or feelings. You know the way one would look over the floor at a country dance and get a feeling for a woman across the way? Nothing scientific. Pure mule you might say. Hormones. This document to my mind has no hormones. No horn. This hornless paper which talks about freedom while battening down empiricism is referencing its democracy to the ancient City State and not of representative government. Its function is metaphorical in that it indicates in a threatening way that nothing ever stays still, that all things are processes so that when you think or speak, you think or speak of something and this is what jigs the linguistic metaphysic so that change is possible. Otherwise, nothing survives except ‘It is’ an empty formula of identity. Thank you.”

 

Shouts of  “That’s the stuff for the poxy pillocks.” And “Now yer sucking diesel,” as Sutcliffe and Casey helped Bates off the counter and in turn helped Marsh to take his place. In his left hand, Marsh held about a dozen sheets of A4 paper. Some, at least, were full of handwriting with words underlined in places, words crossed out, here and there, words written in red ink and every sheet appeared to be colonized with tea, coffee and other stains.

 

“I think Ernie hit the nail on the head,” said Marsh which drew another babble of compliments from the crowd. “I must say,” he continued, “I have grievous problems with the tactics of Mr Collins and Mr Griffith in the negotiations.”

 

“Grievous!” mocked Collins.

 

“Well, the first one is that yourself and Mr Griffith were instructed to sign nothing without referring back to the Cabinet in Dublin.”

 

“We were plenipotentiaries,” snapped Collins giving Marsh an unflinching stare.

 

“Come now Mr Collins, you know very well that you are overstating your hand. You had full power to negotiate away the Rocks of Bawn if you desired but you could not sign off on such negotiation without seeking final permission from Dublin.”

 

“We were plenipotentiaries with full freaking powers,” corrected Griffith.

 

“Now Mr Griffith there’s no need for coarse language or sugary sentiment but you were well aware that you had to be made plenipotentiaries because the British would not entertain negotiating with mere delegates. The concept goes back to earlier times when delegates needed full powers in the absence of direct communications with faraway states but in this day and age the term is ambiguous and the Cabinet gave you very clear instructions which I have here an’ I’ll read it out to you: Number one, the Plenipotentiaries have full powers as defined in their credentials and number two, it is understood however that before decisions are finally reached on the main questions that a dispatch notifying the intention of making these decisions will be sent to the Members of the Cabinet in Dublin and that a reply will be awaited by the Plenipotentiaries before the final decision is made.”

 

“Who are these fuckers?” Collins asked out of the corner of his mouth.

 

“According to Broy, they’re Peacockers and Groganites,” said O’Higgins.

 

“Yes Dev was good at writing instructions but he hadn’t the guts to go himself,” one of the Collin’s group shouted.

 

De Valera stood up. “That’s not true. I had talked with Lloyd George in July and I refused to buckle to his demand for Dominion status and his threat of war. He told me that he could send a soldier for every man, woman and child in the country and I said that he could but that he would have to keep them there.”

 

Shouts of  “Up the Banner” and  “Get up the fucking yard yeh boy yeh Dev.”

 

“And why I sent Michael against his wishes,” explained de Valera, “was because of his reputation in the British mind. The idea was that he would push the British to the limit and then if necessary I would come in on the eleventh hour. And I know that at least one eminent historian has said that this tactic was not only logical, but it was good politics too.”

 

Marsh turned to Griffith. “You Mr Griffith gave a promise to Lloyd George, behind the backs of your fellow negotiators, that you would not break on the question of Ulster!”

 

“The context of that was the Boundary Commission,” Griffith replied his eyes bulging behind his spectacles. “But then you said that you would sign the Treaty which meant that you were satisfied with an all-Ireland within the Empire, under the crown, and then Mr Collins you agreed to sign following the secret backing of the IRB.”

 

“Oh Michael, Michael,” de Valera groaned.

 

“You have mesmerizing imagination Mr Marsh. Could you enlighten me further with some condign evidence?”

 

“I can’t Mr Collins, because the IRB Secretary with the funny Irish name destroyed the papers. Then with IRB backing you settled for Dominion status without telling Dublin.”

 

“How dare you,” hissed Collins.

 

“You see what happened was that the IRB were telling you that the situation in Ireland was changing and in your mind, a terrible ugliness was in labour.”

 

“I don’t know who you are,” said Collins to Marsh, “but you’re a nutter.”

 

“Maybe so but not a fool. You see you were trying to get it across that the volunteers were bunched, one rifle to every fifty men your pal McKeon said when in fact during the truce the volunteers had grown from 3,000 to over 70,000. And they had opened up connections for armaments both in Europe and in America. You were losing the volunteers because they were falling into the wrong hands and yourself and the IRB were beginning to panic. And at the meeting on December third everyone found your behaviour strange, your silence. A seven-hour meeting and you hardly opened your mouth. You short of a word!! And you know why?”

 

Collins stared at Marsh with remote intensity.

 

“You were afraid that you could cause a crisis which might have forced Dev to involve himself in the talks and go eyeball to eyeball with Lloyd George. The Lloyd George who said that debating with de Valera was like trying to lift mercury with a fork, the Lloyd George who later had a meeting with you on your own before you shocked the others in the taxi by saying you were going to sign. That was why you didn’t bother your bollix to make a phone call to Dublin. You wanted a faith accompli for your terms and you had your buddies in the newspapers, in the GAA and in the Church to give backing and support for your terms which incidentally were leaked to the outside world before the Cabinet here got them. You turned your back on the Cabinet and allied yourself with the British Empire and the Irish upper-crust who didn’t like the reports they were reading about Bolshevism in Russia. Like O’Connell and his French Revolution scare you felt safer in the Empire than risking what Pandora’s Box Irish Independence might open.”

 

“Utter fantasy and not a shred of evidence to give it authenticity,” Collins shouted as his group began chanting: “It gives us freedom to achieve freedom.” Chanting non-stop they slowly stomped their way out into Amiens Street. They were followed by the de Valera crowd who were singing at the top of their voices, ‘Soldiers of the Legion of the Rearguard.’

 

Sutcliffe was pushing his way into the excited crowd. “Did anyone see Dev?”

 

“Yep. He’s gone. Sallied his way out in the middle of his group dressed as a woman.”

 

Sutcliffe cursed. “Fuck it! I wanted to question him about the Lincoln jail key.”

 

Soon after a middle-aged local woman with a jerky walk entered the buzzing pub. “Put me on a glass of the quality like a good man,” she asked the barman. “Terrible row going on in Talbot Street,” she said to Mrs Russell who was sitting on a stool at the counter now that it was clear of orators.

 

“A row is it, missus. Is it a row you said?” asked Mrs Russell through pursed lips.

 

“Yes, missus. Two gangs bawling and roaring at each other. Down near the Republican Outfitters where poor Sean got it. And there was me thinking with the truce that this kind of thing was finished and over. Free Staters, do you know what that is.”

 

“Never heard of it. Wonder could it be something sexual?”

 

“No its not that missus because some were shouting its civil war, civil war.”

 

Mrs Russell blessed herself.

 

Beside the window at the bar section, an old man with parchment-coloured skin had nodded off dreaming he had just got a pint off Sarah in Grogans. He is alone. Moribund. Receding into the ruins of time. A shock of white hair bursting from a wrinkled pate above a body that is almost a dissolving form. Lucidity of thought, fragmentary. Feelings obscure. Memories issueless, some imaginary. He is a paralyzed spectator to the frantic chatter and the bustling coming and goings around him. Lost to the hullabaloo until two words tear and scratch into the twilight zone of his memory. He starts and peers into the crowd with smouldering, red-rimmed eyes.

 

“Civil War!” he rasped out angrily. “There was no civil war,” he asserted. As the babble abated to a minimum. “We voted for a Republic and some people, fellow Irishmen, fought with the British Empire because they were told that the British Empire was fighting for the freedom of small nations,” he continued in a brisk crackly voice, “only to discover that the British Empire lied and it lied because lying is in its DNA and the people who had democratically voted for an independent republic had to fight a War of Independence to achieve what they had voted for. We did that and fought the British Army to a standstill.”

 

Loud cheering interspersed with enthusiastic shouts of “Up the Rah.”

 

“And then the British using the bluff, another lie, of imminent and terrible war, coaxed some elements who reckoned they had lost the volunteers, to take the British side and the road back into the British Empire.”

 

Angry shouts of “Bollixes.” and “Free State bastards.” filled the pub.

 

“That’s what they were,” said the old man, “and worse! They then created and set up a new mercenary army with the help of British arms, an army, many of whom had not even fought in the independence struggle.”

 

“Ne’re-do-wells,” a voice rang out.

“And they used this mercenary army to crush the volunteer army which had continued the war for an independent republic and this mercenary army represented the interests of the propertied class and had the support of the church even though it took to murdering prisoners by firing squad and tying people to mines.” the old man continued. “and they were worse, if that was possible than the British, the side they had now replaced and were prepared to murder for.”

 

“And the bishops backed this mercenary army and got the priests to shout from their pulpits to frighten and cower the people saying that anyone resisting this army were doing devil’s work and would be excommunicated and damned to Hell until the cows came home,” said Bates.

 

Marsh rustled a sheet of stained paper. “They were all in on the game especially the press. Do you mind,” he asked the old man,” if I read an extract from the paper of Empire the good old Irish Times on November 3rd 1922?”

 

“Go right ahead.”

 

“Thanks. ‘It perplexed the sagacity of Queen Elizabeth it defeated the genius of Cromwell. Pitt failed and nearly every great statesman in English history has applied his mind to it and has not yet succeeded in finding a remedy ....why should we lavish treasure on that campaign when there are men in Ireland who have undertaken the task in alliance with us, and who when they are given time, will successfully carry out that task....’ the paper then goes on to claim that the ‘men in Ireland’ the Free Staters, have the support of the overwhelming body of Irish people.”

 

The tales were told until little was left to tell, and some were heard for a last time. And at the end of that long day the revellers left, as they arrived, in dribs and drabs and not a single mention was made of the goings on in Wynn's Hotel almost fifty years earlier.

 

Someone calling himself Moleskin Joe shouted from the steps of Connolly railway station, "There's good times coming but we might not live to see them.”